


People, Help the People

by orphan_account



Series: Hold Back the River [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galra!Keith, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 06:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8567074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which the team comes across Galrans who aren’t hostile. Yet Keith is disbelieving and mistrusting. The Red Paladin has a hard time coming to grips with the fact that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t have a reason to hate the entire Galran race. And it’s hard to believe that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t have a reason to hate himself.





	

 “ _Help….ship in critical condition…life support systems at ten percent…”_

“Coran, can we get any more out of that message?” Allura asked, frowning at the damaged vessel on the screen.

“Afraid not, Princess,” Coran replied. “The nearby planet’s rings have all but destroyed the message. I can’t even get an identifier.”

Allura magnified the view, her eyes widening at the massive hole in the unmarked ship’s hull. “The castle’s sensors are detecting four life forms on board,” Coran read out.

“Only _four_? On a ship that size?”

“They may be the only ones left.”

 “Oh dear…” Allura whispered. “We can’t get the castle close enough to rescue them, not with it being in the middle of that asteroid belt.” She opened a channel and hailed the entire ship. “Paladins! We have a rescue mission at hand!”

* * *

 

“Well, I win, Lance,” Keith said, landing the Red Lion on the hull of the damaged vessel.

“You got a head start!” Lance protested.

“What are you, twelve?” Keith asked, stepping out of his Lion.

“On a scale of one to ten, yes.”

Laughter sounded through the comms. “Lance, you can’t just say ‘last one to the ship is a rotten egg’ and then complain when you lose,” Pidge chuckled. She and Hunk hovered around the asteroid belt, providing cover for Shiro, Lance, and Keith to board the ship.

“No, he _did_ leave before me—whoah!” Lance yelped.

Keith looked up to see him narrowly miss colliding head-on with an asteroid. “It’s not my fault you can’t get out the door on time,” Keith replied.

“Guys, what part of ‘serious rescue mission’ do you not understand?” Shiro demanded, his Lion landing next to Keith’s. He stepped out of and joined Keith in inspecting the ship’s airlock. The ship listed on its side, its artificial gravity having been damaged, which put the airlock by their feet.

“I am being serious! Keith got a head start!” Lance exclaimed.

“Uh, wrong,” Hunk stated. “Technically the race started when you called it. And you said ‘go’ when your Lion powered up, but Keith was already out of the hangar.”

“Well, you could have waited two seconds, Keith,” Lance retorted, his Lion finally dropping onto the hull.

“Not on a serious rescue mission,” Keith grinned, and the others laughed.

Shiro shook his head at the antics and motioned Keith away. “Stand back,” he said, his metal hand glowing. “I have to break the lock open.” Keith nodded and stepped under Shiro’s Lion.

It had been four and a half days since Keith’s appearance had randomly changed on him. Four and a half days of regular sparring, and one real mission, all carried out without a hitch. A small bud of hope had started to grow in Keith’s chest: maybe his genes had stabilized. Maybe his body had decided to stick to looking like a human. He smiled a little; maybe everything was going back to normal.

Lance disembarked from his Lion, and Keith glanced at him. “Nice of you to join us,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance muttered.

A sharp _crack_ drew their attention back to Shiro. He pushed open the hatch, letting it swing down into the shaft. Keith and Lance hurried over and lowered themselves into the small sideways hall. They dangled on the edge by their fingertips for a split second, then dropped the remaining three feet to land on the second door. Shiro landed next to them, then jumped up and braced his feet against the sides of the shaft. He pushed the door closed and used his Galran hand to weld the latch shut.

“That should hold it,” he said, dropping back down to Keith and Lance, who stood across from each other. He flicked a switch on the control panel by his foot, and a red light flashed in the sideways hall. They stood on the few inches of space between the door and the wall, watching the pressure gauge near Keith’s feet climb. It rose to full capacity, the light flashed green, and the door hissed open. A dark chasm opened up before them, leaving them with scant inches to stand on. All three Paladins lurched wildly forward. Shiro braced himself against the far wall; Lance and Keith flailed for a split second before they crashed into each other and caught each other by the shoulders.

“Ow!” Lance yelped, his helmet smacking against Keith’s. He threw his grappling hook, securing it by Keith’s feet, and glanced up. “Uh, little help, Shiro?” he asked. “We’re kinda stuck.”

“Hang on…” Shiro braced his grappling gun against the wall and used it to push himself back about a foot. He then reached out and caught Keith across the chest. “Jump, and then hoist yourself up so you’re not swinging in our way,” he said to Lance.

Lance obeyed, and Keith fell forward against Shiro’s arm. Lance swung out over the room with a whoop.

“Can you shine some light on the room?” Shiro asked when Lance’s hand reached up and grasped the doorjamb.

“Sure thing,” Lance replied, securing his foot so he was standing on a loop on the end of the  cord. Keith secured his own grappling hook and jumped. He swung into room, then back towards Lance, missing him by two inches and getting blinded by his flashlight.

“Watch where you’re pointing that!” Keith snapped, hoisting himself up.

“ _You_ watch where you’re going— _¡Oye! Hay personas muertas en aquí! Galra muerto!”_ Their helmet translators snapped on. _“_ This is bad! This is really bad!”

“What?” Shiro exclaimed, swinging out of the hallway.

“ _There are dead Galra in here!!_ ”

“ _What?_ ” Pidge, Hunk, Coran and Allura’s voices rang through the headsets.

Keith blinked. Sure enough, about ten Galra lay below him. They lay sprawled, as if they’d been knocked back from an explosion, their dull yellow eyes staring at  nothing. Keith’s chest tightened, and he heard his rapid breathing echo in his ear.

“What exactly are you seeing?” Allura demanded. Keith swallowed and flicked on his helmet camera.

“Allura, this is a Galran vessel,” Shiro said, his voice tight.

“What do we do?” Lance asked.

Keith tore his gaze from the bodies. “We need to leave. _Now.”_

“Wait, Keith. The distress call came over a civilian channel,” Allura interrupted. “They wanted everyone to hear it.”

“So?” Keith demanded.

“So they were desperate,” Shiro said. “Desperation usually does not equal a threat.”

“It does if they’re Galran!” Keith retorted.

Shiro’s eyes hardened at him. “Do you hear yourself?” he asked quietly.

 _Loud and clear,_ Keith wanted to say, but Lance interrupted him. “Guys, we can’t just argue hanging thirty feet over a bunch of dead people! We gotta do something, before something bad happens.”

“There are still four life signs on board,” Allura said.

“We’ll cover you guys if something happens,” Pidge added.

“That’s why we're out here!” Hunk exclaimed. “Now hurry up, before something bad _does_ happen. Maybe these Galrans will have some information for us.”

Keith clenched his jaw and dropped to the floor. “Where are they?” he asked. Shiro and Lance landed behind him, but Keith didn’t bother to look at them.

“It appears that you are only one room away, to your left,” Coran replied. “The signal keeps jumping around, though; I’m not sure how many of the four are actually in there.”

“Don’t forget the translators,” Lance reminded.

Keith flicked a switch on his helmet. “ _Galran,_ ” he snapped, when the display prompted him to choose a language.

Shiro moved past Keith to the sideways door twenty feet to their left. Lance followed Keith, the three of them stepping gingerly around the deceased Galrans. Shiro palmed the door open, and they crouched through the doorway.

“Please…help…” came a weak voice from the corner. Keith squinted through the darkness and met the gaze of a pair of gleaming yellow eyes. His hand tightened on his bayard.

“We _are_ here to help,” Shiro said, stepping forward. Lance shone his flashlight at the Galra, and the eyes squinted and flinched away.

“Shine that at the _ground,_ idiot,” Keith hissed, wrenching the flashlight out of Lance’s hand. He shone the light towards the Galra’s feet, enough to illuminate the area without blinding him. The Galra sat with his back to the wall, one leg trapped under a huge metal crate. He blinked up at the Paladins, cradling an unconscious female Galra in his arms. Shiro took another step forward, and Keith watched the Galra shrink back and tighten his arms around her.

“Ch-Champion…” the Galra choked, his voice shaking. Shiro froze.

“It’s okay,” Lance said, stepping forward. “We’re here to help. We heard your distress signal. He’s not…he’s not the Champion anymore.” The Galra squinted at him, and Keith jerked his head at Shiro, motioning for him to help them lift the crate off the Galran’s leg. Shiro nodded and quickly snapped his eyes to the task at hand, as if shaking himself back to reality.

“Guys, you have about five minutes to get out of there before the life support systems fail,” Pidge said through their headsets.

“Where are the other survivors?” Keith asked.

“Our children… are trapped… in there…” The Galra nodded towards a mangled doorway across the room. His eyes drifted shut, and he went limp.

“I’ll get ‘em,” Lance said, hurrying to the door.

“I think his leg’s broken,” Shiro said, kneeling next to the Galrans. “But the suit looks okay.” He grabbed the male Galran’s helmet and put it on him. Keith followed suit with the female’s.

Behind them, Lance hauled the door open with a metallic screech. Tiny cries sounded from the next room.

“Hey, hey.” Keith heard Lance’s murmur through the comms, his voice soft and gentle. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m gonna get you outta here, okay?”

“You carry her, and I’ll get him,” Shiro instructed Keith. “Hey, Lance? You need to lower the force field on your Lion. I don’t know if Red or Black will let Galrans on board.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lance replied. The cries turned to shrieks, and Shiro and Keith looked sharply in their direction.

“What’s going on?” Keith demanded.

“I’m not doing anything!” Lance exclaimed. “I literally took two steps towards them. They’re hiding behind a bunch of crates and they won’t come out. And I—oof—can’t get to them. There’s too much junk in here. I can’t climb on it without knocking it towards them. Guys, please stop crying…”

A red light flashed in the ship. No alarm, just a pulsing red light Keith could hear clicking on and off.

“Three minutes, guys,” Hunk called.

“Lance, are the kids wearing space suits?” Shiro asked.

“Yeah, but their helmets are over here by me. Keith, can you please come help?”

“Hurry,” Shiro said. Keith swallowed and nodded, and scrambled through the debris to the next room.

“They’re over there,” Lance said, pointing to a darkened corner. The flashing red light lit the room intermittently, revealing two tiny Galrans cowering at the far end of the room. A metal beam had crashed down into the room, and lay teetering on top of a pile of crates, twisted metal, and what looked like mining equipment. Keith peered through the mountain of debris at the children, and understood what Lance meant. Any attempt at climbing over the mess could easily push the beam down and crush the kids.

“Two minutes,” Pidge announced.

“You sound like the voice of doom, Pidge!” Lance exclaimed.

“Good! You need to hurry!” Pidge retorted.

Keith clenched his teeth, wracking his brain for a solution. He spied a possible hand-hold in the torn hole above them.

“Gimme a boost,” Keith said to Lance. He backed up, took a running start, and leapt off of Lance’s cupped hands. Lance shoved him into the air, and Keith grasped the edge of the hole. He swung over the debris and rolled to a landing on the other side. The kids—a small girl and an even tinier boy—flinched at the sound. They peered around the crate at him, the little boy clinging to his sister and bawling.

“Hey. We need to get out of here. You have to come with me,” Keith said, stepping towards them.

“Wow, that tone of voice is not going to help anything, Keith,” Lance remarked.

Keith bit back a sharp retort and dragged the massive crate out of the way. The kids squinted at him, sniffling, from behind a second, smaller crate. “Guys, come on,” he said, forcing his voice to soften. “It’s okay. Don’t cry.”

Without warning the kids dashed from the corner towards Keith, clinging to his legs and whimpering. Keith staggered and braced his hand against the wall.

“There you go,” Lance said. “I’m right on the other side, and I can kinda see you. If you climb on those crates, you can hand the kids over and down to me.”

Keith extracted himself from the children and knelt. “Climb on my back,” he instructed the girl. She obeyed, clinging tight to his neck. Keith straightened and scooped up the boy, tucking him against his side. He climbed on the crates, till they were about ten feet off the ground and level with the fallen beam. Lance stood on his own crate on the other side, several feet away from and below Keith.

“You’re still too far away, Lance!” Keith exclaimed.

Lance glanced around him. “Um—”

“Guys? You only have a minute,” Hunk said.

Keith squared his footing and held the boy in front of him. “Get ready to catch him.”

“Wait—!” Lance gasped, eyes wide, and his arms shot out to catch the screaming Galran child. He stumbled backwards and fell off the crate, landing hard on his back. The child shrieked and squirmed to get away from him.

Something crashed into the hull, jarring them all. Keith stumbled and the girl shrieked. He flailed with one arm, trying to keep his balance, while reaching behind him and securing the girl on his back with the other. The beam shifted on top of the pile, pushing a warped piece of metal against the crates. Keith’s perch wobbled and the beam shifted even further down the pile.

“Guys! You just got dinged with an asteroid… Life support systems have failed!” Pidge exclaimed. At the same moment, the red light stopped pulsing and glowed steady.

“Mishka, put your helmet on!” the girl cried. Lance pushed himself up, grabbed Mishka’s helmet, and put it on the boy’s head.

“The ship’s oxygen supply is decreasing rapidly!” Allura said.

The beam continued to fall, shoving sharp twisted metal towards Keith and the girl. “Hang on tight!” Keith ordered. He jumped, and felt the girl bury her face against his neck and scream. He leapt over the beam and grasped the edge of the hole in the ceiling. The beam crashed into the crates he’d been standing on, knocking them all to the floor. Keith swung wildly over the debris. His fingers slipped a second too soon, and he yelped.

“Woah, Keith—!” Lance grabbed Mishka and scrambled out of the way, just as Keith crashed to the ground. Keith’s foot slipped on a piece of metal and he fell hard on his side. The girl tumbled off his back, and he could hear her gasping for air. He pushed himself to his knees, snatched her helmet off the ground, and clicked it on her suit. The girl choked and coughed, clinging to his arm with wide eyes.

“C-can’t… _breathe…!”_ she gulped, tears streaming down her face.

“Oh no…” Lance whispered.

Keith scooped her up and dashed to the next room. “Shiro!” he yelled. “The girl, her suit—it’s not working! She can’t breathe!”

“Check the oxygen canister!” Shiro ordered, hurrying in from the other room. He snapped a canister off one of the deceased Galrans. Keith set the child down and knelt in front of her. The cracked display on her oxygen canister flickered and stuttered, and Keith unhooked it from her suit.

 “It’s a little big, but it should work.” Shiro connected the new canister to the back of her suit. Keith tilted his head so he could watch the girl’s face. She took deep, shuddering breaths, and he felt his shoulders slump in relief.

Shiro stood. The girl turned to look at him, and screamed bloody murder. She lunged into Keith’s arms, hiding her face against his chest. A smaller weight crashed into his side, and he looked down to see Mishka clinging to his arm.

Keith craned his head up at Lance. “What—”

“Dude, I could _not_ hold him. He almost jumped out of my arms. I had to put him down so he wouldn’t hurt himself,” Lance replied.

Keith looked down at the kids and moved his arms around them both. “Hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay.” The girl looked up at him, sniffling. She looked between Shiro and Lance, then back at Keith, her eyes wide. Keith frowned. _This doesn’t make any sense; why are they scared of them but not—_

_Oh._

_Right._

_They’re Galran._

**_I’m_ ** _Galran._

The girl started to look around again, her eyes dangerously close to straying upon the dead bodies. He gently turned her head back towards him.

“I need you to climb on my back and close your eyes. Don’t open them till I tell you to.” He turned to Mishka. “You too. Close your eyes.” The girl clambered onto his back, and he stood, balancing Mishka on his hip.

Somehow he managed to hoist himself and the two Galran children up to the hull. The kids gasped at the three Lions. He strode up to Red and put his hand on the force field.

The beams merely flickered, and a low metallic rumble sounded from the Lion.

“Hey, it’s me,” Keith snapped. “And these kids are coming, too. There’s no way they’re gonna like flying with Lance.”

The Lion growled once more, but the force field faded away and Red lowered its head.

“What’s that?” Mishka asked, pointing at Red.

“That’s a Lion,” Keith replied.

“How come you don’t look like a Galran?” the girl asked.

“Because I’m only half-Galran,” Keith said, stepping inside Red. He set both kids down and took off his helmet.

“This is too heavy,” the girl complained, plopping herself down on the floor behind the pilot seat and fidgeting with her oversized oxygen canister.

Keith knelt, took her helmet off, and undid the oxygen canister. “You won’t need these anymore,” he said, clicking Mishka’s helmet off as well. He paused. “What’s your name?” he asked the girl.

“Anya!” she replied. Keith looked at them both. Anya’s ears looked a lot like Sendak’s had: furry and up near the top of her head, like a cat’s. Mishka’s, however, were positioned on the side of his head and merely pointed, much like Keith’s. Two pairs of bright yellow eyes looked curiously back at him, and Keith smiled a little.

“My name’s Keith,” he said.

“Keef!” Mishka giggled. Keith’s smile grew, and he stood. Vertigo hit him, and he staggered, catching himself on the pilot’s seat. He blinked, the control panel flashing at him far too bright for a split second.

_Got up too fast. That’s all._

* * *

 

Except a pounding headache settled behind Keith’s eyes two minutes before he entered the hangars, and the control panel practically blinded him. He gritted his teeth, landing with a bit more force than truly necessary. His stomach churned and his hands shook unbuckling his seatbelt. He grabbed his helmet and looked at his reflection, his aching eyes squinted almost shut.

“Hey, you look like Mishka now!” Anya grinned at him.

“Y-yep,” Keith replied, his hands tightening around his helmet. He plunked it on the control panel and sighed. “C’mon, let’s get you guys up to the medbay.” He pushed himself to his feet and took a deep breath. Mishka held his arms up, and Keith picked him up and balanced him on his hip. Anya grasped his other hand, and they left the Lion.

The other Lions landed silently in their respective hangars. Allura and Coran helped Lance and Shiro carry the unconscious Galrans out of Lance’s Lion and onto anti-grav stretchers. Keith remained by his Lion, not wanting the kids to catch a good look at Shiro again.

Mishka reached for the Galrans. “Mama…” he whimpered.

“Shh. She’s gonna be okay,” Keith murmured. Something across the hangar gleamed in his eye, and he cringed, hissing through his teeth.

“You all right, Keith?” Pidge asked, having approached from his right.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Anya and Mishka whimpered, cowering against him. “Hey. She’s okay. Pidge is not gonna hurt you.”

“Hey kiddos,” Pidge smiled, waving at Anya.

“Follow us to the medbay, please, Keith!” Allura called.

Keith obeyed, his legs shaking with each step by the time they got there. Pidge had offered to carry Mishka, but the child squalled when Keith tried to hand him off. Likewise, Anya maintained a death grip on his hand. Only Allura and Coran remained in the medbay with the adult Galrans. Pidge explained in a whisper that the other Paladins hadn’t wanted to scare the children more. She then stepped back and left the medbay, and Keith felt Mishka relax a little.

Allura finished programming the healing pods and turned to Keith. “How are the children?”

“Okay, for the most part,” Keith replied. “Anya’s oxygen didn’t work for a minute, when the life support systems failed. And Mishka, uh, took a tumble when we tried to get him out from where they were stuck.” His arm trembled, and he quickly knelt and set Mishka down before he dropped him.

Allura nodded. “A bit of time in the healing pods will do them good, after all that’s happened. Though I don’t think they’ll need to be in as long as their parents.”

To Keith’s surprise, the kids let Allura near them, though they still clung to him. Soon enough their clunky space suits lay on the floor. The kids both wore simple gray and black shirts and pants under their suits.

“You guys need to take a nap for a little bit, okay?” Keith murmured. He picked up Mishka and gently set him in the healing pod. The glass slid shut and the child went limp, his eyes closing. Beside Keith, Anya cried out.

“I don’t wanna go in there!” she whimpered, her eyes filling with tears.

Keith knelt in front of her. “It’s okay, they’re just taking a nap. You need to, too. You’ll feel better,” he explained.

“I don’t wanna…” She rubbed her eye and swayed on her feet; Keith reached out and caught her. She buried her face against his neck, sobbing. “I want Mama,” she cried.

“Shh,” Keith soothed. “She’s just taking a nap. You need to sleep too, okay? Your mama would want you to.”

Anya pulled back, sniffling. She nodded, and Keith carefully set her in the empty pod. Her eyes drifted shut, and the glass closed. Keith quickly looked away from his own Galran reflection. He shuddered, massaging his temple with the heel of his hand.

“Do you feel well, Keith?” Coran asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a headache,” Keith muttered. He pushed past Coran and Allura and left the medbay.

* * *

 

Keith wandered into the cargo bay a few minutes later. He’d shed his spacesuit, only to realize his jacket lay two decks away in the lounge, where likely everyone else was. So he’d slipped into Hunk’s room and snagged a sweatshirt. He sat in a corner of the darkened cargo bay, hugging his knees to his chest, his headphones blocking out the noise. He scrunched down in the massive sweatshirt, the hood covering all but his eyes. He squinted at the various storage units, vaguely wondering what was inside, shivers wracking his body while his headache throbbed behind his eyes.

This didn’t always happen. Sometimes his appearance would change during training, and he’d be able to fight _better_. The room would get colder and brighter, yes, but he could hear better, see better, and thus react faster. He’d once gotten through four training levels with the robot before fatigue—not a headache or light sensitivity, but plain old combat-tiredness—had forced him to stop.

And one time he’d been walking along the corridor, and a sudden bout of vertigo had been his only warning. He’d stumbled, catching himself against the wall, and let out a frustrated growl when he saw his purple hand. “Guys, heads up. I’m Galran again,” he’d warned before entering the lounge. But he hadn’t had to squint as badly, and the lounge hadn’t felt quite so cold. They’d watched a movie, and he hadn’t even realized when his appearance changed back.

Sometimes being a Galran was actually _bearable_.

A sudden sneeze pounded his brain and made him cringe. He groaned and rested his head against the wall, his eyes drifting shut.

Someone lightly kicked his foot, and he jumped. He reached for his dagger, but got his hand caught in the enormous sweatshirt. He looked up to see Pidge standing in front of him, and he shoved the hood and headphones off his head.

Pidge knelt next to him and surprised him by pressing a warm bowl of soup into his hands. He sat up quickly before he spilled it. “What—”

“Eat it,” Pidge ordered. “Hunk made it. I’ve had some, it’s good.”

Keith shifted so he sat cross-legged. The spoon shook in his hand, spilling half its contents back in the bowl before he could get it to his mouth. Pidge sat in front of him, watching him tilt the bowl and drink the soup.

“Do you think you’re the only Galran who _isn’t_ a threat to this team?” Pidge asked after a minute.

Keith’s eyes narrowed and he set the bowl down. “What are you talking about?”

“Shiro said, ‘Desperation does not always equal a threat.’ And you said it does if they’re Galran.” Pidge frowned at him. “What did that even mean, Keith? How can you say something like that? Look at you!”

Her voice rose in volume and pitch, her words jabbing him directly in the chest, and Keith tensed. “I am fully aware of what I am, Pidge,” he growled.

“And do you think you’re _better_ than those Galrans in the medbay? They were _dying,_ Keith, and you were about to let them die!”

“I was thinking more about the _rest of  Zarkon’s empire,”_ Keith snapped. “The one that spans half the galaxy? The one we’re battling _every single day?_ If a Galran ship goes down, you can bet money more Galrans will show up to help it.” He clenched his fists on his knees, breathing hard through his teeth. “And we were just sitting out there, _waiting for them_.”

“Wrong. That ship didn’t have an identifier. _Remember?_ Allura told us that right before we left. The Galrans wouldn’t have known the difference between that ship and a walkie-talkie.”

“So I forgot. Excuse me for being concerned with the safety of this _team!_ ”

“You mean the team that’s dedicated to _helping people?”_ Her voice had dropped down to something icy sharp and dangerous. “You looked at innocent, hurting people, you looked at Mishka and Anya, and all you saw was everything you despise about the Galrans.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you _dare_ tell me you hate those kids, deep down.

Keith’s stomach clenched. “I don’t hate Mishka and Anya…” His nails dug into his palm. _I hate what **I** am. I hate hearing Zarkon laughing every time I look in the mirror, I hate how bad I still scare Shiro sometimes, I hate how much it **hurts**_.

“But you hate the Galrans.”

Keith swallowed and scowled at the floor between them.

“And you hate being one of them,” Pidge continued.

“Is that so wrong?” Keith whispered.

Pidge lunged forward, so fast Keith barely had time to flinch. Her small arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, the side of her head pressed against his. “ _Yes_ ,” she said, her voice small and fierce. “Because it’s _tearing you apart._ ” Something twisted in Keith’s heart, and his breath hitched. Pidge’s arms tightened around him. He remained stock-still, not daring to move, lest the fragile wall holding back his tears shatter completely.

She sat back, her light brown eyes somehow soft and piercing at the same time. “You can’t let hate rule you, Keith. You just can’t. Believe me, I _know_ what that’s like.”

Keith looked down at his white knuckles and shook his head. “Not quite,” he muttered, a slight tremble in his voice. “ _You,_ Pidge, do not spontaneously transform into a monster.”

“And neither do you.” She leaned forward. “Yes, you’re Galran. But you’re not like Zarkon and his soldiers. You’re _still Keith_. And you need to remember that. No matter how much evil Zarkon spreads, _that’s not you._ ” She paused. “I don’t mean to lecture you, that’s Shiro’s job. But you can’t… we can’t let our feelings get in the way. Our purpose as Paladins is to _help_ people. And this might sound crazy, but… I think there’re _good_ Galrans out there.” She smiled a little. “Galrans just like you.”

Keith shrank a little further into the folds of the sweatshirt. Pidge reached out and squeezed his hand. “But if we refuse to see them, if we can’t help them because we let our prejudice blind us…if we’re letting ourselves hate them instead, because _we’re_ hurting… then in the end, we’re no better than Zarkon.”

Keith looked away. “I understand,” he said quietly.

“I know you’re not feeling good,” Pidge murmured, and Keith ducked his head. “But those kids are going to wake up in an hour, and we need you to be there when they do. _They_ need you. Okay?”

Keith nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Pidge wrapped her arms around him again, and this time, Keith hugged her back, the huge sweatshirt enveloping them both. He shut his eyes, listening to the steady sound of her breathing. Her warmth seeped into him, and gradually his shivering breaths slowed to match hers.

After a moment, Pidge sat back on her heels. “Feeling a little better?” she asked, and Keith half-smiled and nodded. Pidge pressed an Aspirin packet into his hand—“this’ll help, too”—and picked up his empty bowl.

“The smaller translators are already in the medbay,” she said, standing.

Keith looked up at her, his fingers curling around the Aspirin. “Thank you,” he managed to whisper. Pidge smiled and left.

* * *

 

“What’s Voltron, Keef?” Anya asked.

Keith lay on his stomach on the lounge floor, the kids sitting nearby, all coloring with Pidge’s markers. Despite shivering the whole way from the bunks to the medbay and then the lounge, he’d dropped off Hunk’s sweatshirt on his way up, before— _hopefully—_ his friend even noticed its absence. But the Aspirin had kicked in about five minutes ago, and his jacket had that familiar cozy warmth to it, and someone had thought to turn the heat up in the lounge a few degrees.

Mishka started to put his translator in his mouth. Keith gently took it and clipped it back on the toddler’s shirt.

“Voltron is the name of the robot we can form with our Lions,” Keith explained. Anya  blinked at him.

“What’s Lion?” Mishka asked, grabbing Keith’s red marker and scribbling on his own paper.

“Well, this is a lion…er, sorta,” Keith said, frowning critically at his drawing of Red.

“So, lions are robots?” Anya asked.

“Uh, no,” Keith replied, scratching his head. “These are just robots that look like lions.” Anya’s brows furrowed. Keith tried again. “A real lion is like a big cat… you know what a cat is, right? A little furry animal with four legs and a tail? Kinda like this…” He grabbed a purple marker, flipped his paper over, and started to draw.

“This is sort of what they look like,” he said after a minute. Anya leaned forward to look.

“Kotaynok!” she laughed. “That’s a kotaynok.”

 _Kotaynok?_ The three translators glowed red: apparently there was no English equivalent. “What sound does it make?” Keith asked. Anya promptly meowed at him.

“Huh! Okay, so lions are like big, uh, _kotaynoks._ ”

“Do they meow, too?” Anya asked.

Keith grinned. “Oh yeah.” He beckoned the children closer. “We’re right above the Voltron Lions. If we’re real quiet, we’ll be able to hear them.”

The kids’ eyes widened, and they sat perfectly still. Keith hid his mouth behind his hand and meowed softly.

“I heard it!” Mishka shrieked.

“No! That was Keef!” Anya protested.

“That wasn’t me!” Keith laughed.

“Shh!” Anya exclaimed. She tilted her head, her eyes locked on Keith’s. All three remained silent for a good ten seconds. Anya looked at Mishka, and Keith took his opportunity and meowed again.

“Shush, Keef!” Anya giggled.

“That wasn’t me! That was the Blue Lion!” Keith retorted.

“No!” But Anya’s eyes flickered with confusion, and Keith knew he had her at least partially tricked. He grinned at her and meowed once more behind his hand, this time making the joke obvious.

“I knew it!” she cried. “Lions don’t meow!”

“I’m pretty sure real ones do,” Keith said. “And who knows about the ones downstairs? They’re full of surprises.”

Mishka laughed. “I’m a Lion!” He crawled onto Keith’s back, wrapped his chubby arms around his neck, and meowed in his ear.

Keith reached up and ruffled the boy’s hair. Anya grabbed a marker and resumed working on her drawing.

They sat in amiable silence, Keith and Anya drawing and Mishka snoozing on Keith’s back. The room grew dimmer, and Keith glanced up, wondering who was messing with the lights.

“How do you do that?” Anya asked.

“Do what—” Realization struck, and Keith looked down at his hands. Pink again. “Oh.” He shrugged. “I dunno. I can’t do it on purpose. It just sorta happens.”

“Oh.” Anya nodded. And left it at that.

* * *

 

“Keith, as much as I hate to admit it…you did good today.” Lance shoved his hands into his pockets.

Keith raised an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

“But I coulda done better. You only had to deal with two well-behaved kiddos, whereas _I_ grew up with four little sisters and, like, a million cousins under the age of ten.”

“Oh, sure. But were they _aliens,_ Lance?” Keith retorted.

“Sometimes I wondered about that,” Lance remarked, deadpan.

 Keith shook his head and looked back at the viewscreen. One of their shuttles (with all identifiers carefully removed) drifted out of the hangars. The five Paladins watched it, while Allura and Coran spoke to its Galran pilot.

Anya and Mishka’s parents had woken up six hours after their children. While still a little groggy, their faces had lit up in relief when Keith brought their children back to the medbay to see them. However, Allura, Coran, and Keith had been the only ones the children had been totally at ease with. The other Paladins had been eager to hear their story, but had had to be satisfied with standing in the hall and listening in on the comms. Anya and Mishka had clung terrified to their parents upon seeing either Lance or Hunk, and had actually shrieked and hid their faces when they saw Shiro. Pidge hadn’t scared them as bad, but they still sat stiffly, watching her with wide eyes until she left the room.

Keith had sat some distance away and listened to the story while Coran monitored the lie detectors. The four Galrans were the only survivors of a poorly planned and hastily executed escape. They’d been migratory miners, constantly on the move, working in large numbers to extract natural resources on various uninhabited dwarf planets. Their last job had been near the outskirts of the Galran empire. The conditions of migratory mining had been always been terrible, and after several years, a rebellion had been plotted. But the Galran empire had heard about it, and sought to destroy the planet (a small loss, since the planet’s resources had been nearing depletion). And a fleet of soldiers had been dispatched to ensure _none_ of the rebelling Galrans escaped.

But word of this plot and the approaching soldiers had reached a group of about a hundred miners. They weren’t interested in getting into a war, they had families to take care of. They just wanted to leave the empire and take their families somewhere safe. So they’d retro-fitted a low-orbit shuttle and took off within a week.

Except the shuttle’s shields had been built to ward off minor space debris—pebble sized asteroids, not space rocks the size of a kitchen table.

“We thank you for your kindness,” Taugeer had said. “But we are endangering you by being here. Soon enough word will spread of the stolen ship, and a registrar of those aboard will be posted throughout the Galran empire.” A translator squawked, and his attention had moved to the child in his lap. “Mishka, do not eat these,” he’d said gently. He’d reattached the translator to the child’s shirt, and Keith had bit back a smile.

The childrens’ mother—Saavik—continued. “Anyone with any connection to those who were with us will be under close scrutiny. And if it were to be discovered that you helped us escape the damaged vessel—”

Anya had squirmed in her lap and looked anxiously up at her. “Mama, where’s everybody else?” she’d asked, and Keith’s chest had tightened.

“Shh,” Saavik had murmured, stroking her daughter’s hair and glancing at Allura and Coran.

“I-I don’t think they saw anything,” Keith had interrupted, and both parents looked at him. “On the ship, I mean.”

Taugeer nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he said. His eyes had narrowed, and Keith hadn’t been able to tell if he was sizing him up as a threat or simply curious. He’d straightened and forced himself to meet Taugeer’s gaze, but wished Shiro had been there to tell him if he was breaking any cultural rules by doing so.

Evidently Taugeer had liked, or at least accepted, what he saw, for he’d inclined his head ever so slightly and looked away.

“They’re telling the truth,” Coran had said, and Allura had nodded. They’d offered to help the Galrans in any way possible, but they had simply requested a way to get off the castleship. They’d been on their way to what was supposed to be a peaceful, relatively uninhabited planet, and were anxious to get back on their way. Coran had looked up the coordinates and confirmed that yes, the planet did exist, and yes, it was in fact peaceful. The Galrans would be safe there.

So Allura had given them a shuttle, and it now powered up before Keith’s eyes. Its engines glowed bright blue, and if he’d blinked, he would have missed it jump to light speed and disappear.

“What did Anya give you, Keith?” Shiro asked.

Just before the Galrans left, Anya had run up to Keith and pressed a folded piece of paper in his hand. He’d guessed it to be her drawing, although he hadn’t actually seen what it was. He’d given her his drawing of Red in return, and she’d hugged him around the neck and darted into the shuttle.

Keith drew the paper from his pocket and unfolded it. It was indeed the drawing Anya had been working on in the lounge: a stick-figure rendition of five Galrans. They were all drawn with purple marker and given yellow eyes and wide smiles. All five had labels in Galran, written in a child’s scrawl. Four  of the Galrans looked similar, the only differences between them being height and hair length. But while fifth wore a smile as wide as the others, he also wore a bright red jacket.

“Aw,” Pidge breathed, peering over Keith’s arm.

“That was really sweet of her,” Shiro added.

Keith could hear the warmth of Shiro’s smile, could feel Lance bump his shoulder good-naturedly and Pidge squeeze his arm, and the collective murmurs of “aw, that’s so cute!” warmed him from his the back of his neck down to his toes. He stood staring at the drawing, a delighted smile spread across his face.

“What’s it say, Shiro?” Hunk asked.

“It says ‘Mama,’ ‘Papa,’ ‘Me (Anya),’ ‘Mishka’… and ‘Keef.’”


End file.
